How It Came To Be ~ Sestina I

Write a Sestina they said. It’ll be fun they said. I think they were all drunk!


When all the wine had at last been drunk
The last man standing (as it were) was a poet
Thus came to be the alluring and intricate sextain
Speaking words of love as the sky turned purple
And the revellers slept oblivious, replete and wine warm
Among the summer’s best flowers and ferns

And in the lacy green of the tiny ferns
Where along with wine, much mead had been drunk
A fair lass loosened her stays in the warm
As she listened to the words of the poet
Whist fastening her raven hair with heather purple
A blush on her cheeks at the words of the sextain

And the music in the words of the sextain
Had the maiden dancing among the ferns
Her twirling skirts were a ripple of purple
Reminiscent of the shade of much wine drunk
By contented May Day celebrants and a wandering poet
On such a blissful day so green and so warm

Dancing languidly as her skin and heart grew warm
Letting the troubadour’s skill with a lute and sextain
Turn her head and eyes to the lonely poet
Who’s eyes, she observed were a rival green to the ferns
She giggled at the thought, that what spoke was the wine she’d drunk
And the afternoon waxed further into the sunset’s purple

Clouds like sheep were traversing the sky’s blue and purple
The day was deepening to dusk and losing the day’s warm
The kegs and flasks attested to much wine and mead drunk
Who in this state could appreciate a poor poet’s sextain
Yet, he persevered with his deep tenor and lute among the ferns
The fair-haired, green-eyed troubadour and poet

There was a secret unknown to the revellers about this certain poet
And the reason why he chose to perform among heather purple
And how he scorned a feather bed for one among the green ferns
They barely noted how everything about him was so very warm
No one noted the six, six, six of his lilting sextain
Or that he’d been the only one among them not drunk

For only the devil himself or a most cunning drunk
Would attempt such a feat as a melodious sextain
Without becoming a dragon’s breath degree of warm

~ kei

29 September 2014


This is written in the Sestina (Sextain) form. There is a great description of this intricate form here.

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